


heinous crimes

by Schlafwandeln



Series: little chaekkung drabbles [5]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, M/M, and you're scared, as they should - Freeform, basically you're being threatened by mx, hw and mh does Things for ck, oh right, the new mv that's why, why did i even write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 10:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27349993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schlafwandeln/pseuds/Schlafwandeln
Summary: “See, I collect assassins,” Changkyun says darkly. You gulp. “And in the case you fail to provide what I ask for, you’ll have the privilege to choose which one you want to be killed by.”Blondie grins. He pulls out an axe — an honest-to-god axe — from a holster in his jacket. Tall Guy remains unmoving, though you suspect he has an equally-deadly weapon stored in his suit jacket as well.“I recommend Hyungwon, by the way,” you don’t comment on how you don’t fucking know who Hyungwon is. “He does it neater than Minnie.”or: crimelord changkyun wants your resources and he gets it from you by unethical means.Rated T for implied violence and expletives.
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Im Changkyun | I.M, implied
Series: little chaekkung drabbles [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697101
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	heinous crimes

**Author's Note:**

> **TW: MILD DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND BLOOD**
> 
> if i’m being honest this whole stupid brain dump is inspired by [this one Sickening tweet](https://twitter.com/chaeleggiewon/status/1319999921836228609?s=20) from [ao3 user geniewish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geniewish) aka my mood 24/7.
> 
> now, after the mv release (which, btw, i have no idea how i’m still alive and breathing), it’s manifested itself as a 2nd person pov fic and idk what to do with it and myself help.
> 
> anyways enjoy <3

You’ve heard of the new young Crimelord, of course — literally everyone has, with the speed in which rumors travel in the Underground. You’ve also heard of his companions: menacing, the people say, almost as though they’re beings of another species entirely, too intimidating to call humans.

You shudder at the words people use: eerie, unnerving, unpleasant. If his employees are described like that, how much more terrifying can the actual Crimelord be? You don’t want to even begin to think about it.

Which is why you drop your glass of whisky as one of your employees frantically recites the words he’d received from none other than the Crimelord himself. The glass doesn’t shatter, just emits a dull thud as it drops onto the carpet of your office, staining it a honeyed orange.

“Say that again,” you say, just to make sure.

“Er, they- they’ve asked for resources, sir,” the scrawny boy stammers. “Uhm, money, weapons, and the like-“

“And you’ve accepted,” you say, wiping your palm against your face with frustration.

“Uh, well,” the boy is fidgeting, “y-yes, sir, we’ve accepted.”

“Now, why would you do something like that without my knowledge?” 

“B-because,” if stares could burn holes, yours would do that at this very moment, preferably one through the space inbetween the daft boy’s eyebrows, “t-they’ve offered, er, protection, and- and—“

You slam your hand on the desk, hard.

“Do you think I _need_ protection?” 

“W-well no, sir—“

“Do you think we’re too fucking weak to protect ourselves?”

“N-no, sir—!”

“You think our resources are wholly yours,” you taunt, enunciating every word with poison. “Think they’re free goodies to be given away to everyone, eh? Is that it?”

The boy all but shrinks on himself. You sigh with disappointment — you really ought to pick better employees next time. 

“S-sir,” you resist the urge to immediately yell at the boy again, “t-there have been stories, sir—“

_Oh, for god’s sake—_

“What fucking stories?”

“Um! About the people who refuse them, sir, what happens to them and later, their dead bodies—“

“That’s fucking hearsay, you stupid boy!” you bellow, thwarted to no end about the whole situation. “Are you going to start believing in fucking fairytales now? Is that what we’ve come to?”

He just stares at your fucking carpet, the useless piece of shit.

“Out! Now!”

“Y-yes, sir.”

As the door to your office closes, you sigh and sit down, placing your chin on top of your clasped palms. You devise a plan to deal with this mess — you’ve gotten out of sticky situations before; surely this one is just like any other.

Surely those rumors about the new Crimelord are wildly exaggerated.

—-

You gulp.

You’re nervous but you refuse to admit it to yourself. 

A black Jaguar pulls up to where you and your five henchmen stand, the tires screeching against the dry concrete. From the driver’s side a man exits: he has a short, yet strong build — he walks with purpose, as though he means for his steps alone to be threatening. His long, black fringe covers his eyes like curtains. 

From the back seats: two slimmer men that walk elegantly, as though the world is a runway on which they must always walk — one man is shorter than the other, you notice; the shorter one is blond, parted to the side, while the taller’s raven hair is slicked back. From here, you don’t see weapons of any sort — but you know better, they’re always well-concealed in this kind of exchange.

You expect more men to come drive by and come out, but it seems the three is all they’ve got. You scoff internally as they walk closer — this is going to be _easy_. 

Blondie and Tall Guy remain behind Threatening Steps. You expect them to say something along the lines of, _“we regret to inform you that the Crimelord is unable to attend.”_

_“Oh, that’s too bad,”_ you would reply, while smiling, of course. _“Maybe we can arrange a later meeting? Or shall we abolish the agreement entirel—“_

“Good day,” Threatening Steps interrupt your thoughts, his voice a whole octave lower than you expect, “I understand we’re here to perform a simple exchange?”

_“Who the hell are you?”_ you want to say, but you’ve learnt that it’s always good to make a diplomatic first impression, no matter who you’re talking to.

“Yes,” you say instead. “An attractive offer indeed.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re in agreement,” he replies, a grin pasted on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Have you got the goods ready?”

You haven’t, of course. But you’re confident these three janky-looking men will be dead before they even enter your premises anyway. 

“Of course,” you say, a perfectly-convincing smile plastered across your face.

“Great,” Threatening Steps announces, then extending his hand in a friendly gesture that unsettles you instead. “You know, I make it a point to know my acquaintances well.”

You take the hand uncertainly, refusing to show any fear on your face. His palms are soft; delicate — not the hands of an assassin. You sag a little in relief. This must be one of the Crimelord’s many employees — which, in your honest opinion, kind of makes the rumors that have been circulating extremely over-exaggera—

“I’m Im Changkyun,” he says, then, and you freeze in place. “I’m sure you must know me well already, what with the people not being able to keep their mouths shut for one single second.”

Hold on.

_He’s_ the Crimelord?

Which means this is the one they’re referring to when they say ‘deadly’. This is the man who’d supposedly overtaken the other gangs with ease, who’d allegedly murdered an entire group for not keeping their promises. 

You notice you’re still clasping his hand. You glance up, and that’s when it hits you — you were being observed. You notice how the other two stare at you: Blondie seems amused, while Tall Guy looks as though he’s about to murder you with sight alone. 

You quickly let go of his hands. Five strong men versus three lanky ones. Easy win, bet.

You discreetly move your hands behind you, intending to sign the queue for your men to kill the stupid bastards, but Threatening Steps — no, the Crimelord — no, Changkyun smiles — which stops your hands in their tracks — and leans in to whisper in your ear.

_“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”_

A chill runs down your back.

Fuck. You’re not scared. You’re not scared of three fucking men who look like they can’t kill for shit.

“You collect items, right,” Changkyun drawls as he moves away from your ear — you almost let your tense shoulders sag in relief. “Yeah, being a collector is nice. You get to admire the shiny little trinkets, right? It’s like they’re a testament to your hard work.”

What the fuck is this guy on about?

“See, I’m also a collector of sorts,” Changkyun then says, as though he isn’t in the middle of an intense power play. “But you see, my collection is far more superior than yours.”

Fuck off. You move your hands again to signal your five men—

Changkyun moves in, fast as lightning. He has a hand on your shoulder, as though you are a friendly brother he’s clapping the shoulders of. You shudder in unease again.

“See, I collect assassins,” Changkyun says darkly. You gulp. “And in the case you fail to provide what I ask for, you’ll have the privilege to choose which one you want to be killed by.”

Blondie grins. He pulls out an axe — an honest-to-god _axe_ — from a holster in his jacket. Tall Guy remains unmoving, though you suspect he has an equally-deadly weapon stored in his suit jacket as well.

“I recommend Hyungwon, by the way,” you don’t comment on how you don’t fucking know who Hyungwon is. “He does it neater than Minnie.”

One of Changkyun’s men grumbles in complain, but you don’t register which one it was as your brain is whirring in an attempt to come up with a viable counter. The familiar press of your gun against your back reminds you of its existence. You power through the unsettling feeling in your chest, and pull your shotgun out in one swift motion, intending to aim it at the Crimelord’s head—

But Tall Guy is suddenly beside you; your pistol is suddenly no longer in your grip — you hear its dull metallic clang as it clatters to the concrete, and then a gritty sound as it slides away from you. There is a cool pressure against the side of your temple, and you only realize it is another shotgun as you hear the click of the safety catch being released.

“You touch him again,” Tall Guy’s voice is deadly in its elegance, “and you die.”

The rumors were absolutely right. It isn’t human to move with this kind of speed. You gulp; your hands are trembling now, afraid to move lest the shotgun on your temple triggers.

“Uh, oh,” Blondie says, seeming to jest, “you’ve angered the guard dog.”

And though you know each one of your men has their guns pointed towards these men, you can’t deny the slow-rising feeling of dread in your guts. These men, whatever they are, are powerful.

And you have the feeling they aren’t at all afraid — which makes them just that much deadlier. The atmosphere is positively crackling with tension.

Just as you feel the bile as it rises up your stomach, Changkyun’s hand moves — you prepare for some intrusion of privacy, for some violence. Perhaps your neck; it’s always a classic to choke someone to death, isn’t it? Yeah. You can think of more unpleasant ways to die — namely, the fucking _axe._ You begin to actually feel fucking relieved that he is going to choke you—

He places his hand on Tall Guy’s chest instead — and you note that this is no ordinary touch: it is gentle, tender in the way those delicate fingers settle on the fabric of the guy’s suit. You widen your eyes as it comes to the forefront of your mind: it is a lover’s caress. Changkyun leans in to whisper something in Tall Guy’s ear — whose hands are, by the way, still steadfastly holding that pistol against your temple — and then the pressure against your head lessens, until it is finally gone.

When you dare to dart your glance sideways, Tall Guy is smiling fondly at Changkyun. You feel like a damn voyeur, interrupting an exchange that’s meant to be private. You look away, wishing that this whole feat will be over — to hell with the goods, you’ll give this man anything, _anything—_

A gun fires.

It isn’t yours, nor is it Tall Guy’s. Blondie doesn’t seem to be holding a gun.

The bullet whizzes past Changkyun, just as Tall Guy pulls him to the side by a mere centimetre, as though he knew precisely where the bullet would land. The shot is one of your men’s — a sense of horror fills you as you think of the consequences — the _axe,_ for christ’s sake! 

“I- I swear it was an—“

The sentence is cut-off midway by the sickening sound of metal cutting through flesh, and then followed by a loud, painful scream. Shots fire behind you, but along with one more slice of metal against human bone and three clean shots from in front of you, your brain disregards it, too busy spinning with dread, dread, dread—

And then silence. Only the rush of your blood in your ears.

“It’s done, Chang-kyun-nie,” Blondie sing-songs, making his way back. When he enters your peripheral vision once more, you dare to spare a glance at the bit of his axe: bloodied, with strange clumps that look suspiciously like brain matter dangling onto it for dear life.

You don’t dare look back at your men — or what’s left of them, anyway — for fear of vomiting.

And then in one swift motion, you are pulled by your tie — your face is now inches away from Changkyun’s, and this, this is the point where you finally admit that you’re scared, you are terrified, in fact, and you’re just about ready to drop to your knees and kiss this guy’s feet—

“Now you be a good boy,” Changkyun says, voice low, too low, “and tell your men to get the supplies ready. Then maybe I’ll spare you from Wonnie, alright?”

You nod. You nod frantically. You nod even if you don’t know who Wonnie is.

As soon as he lets go of your tie, you run inside your base, panting, fully intending to drop to the ground and not think of anything, anything, anything.

Fuck, the rumors have _nothing_ on how they actually are.

—-

Changkyun looks at the deceased bodies with distaste, eyeing the way the mangled flesh gives way to peeks of the men’s insides, crimson-red blood flowing from the fresh slices of the axe.

“Couldn’t you have done a neater job?” he grumbles, stepping away from the bodies, not wanting his polished shoes to be stained by the blood that’s starting to pool around it. “I’m starting to think giving you the axe was a terrible idea.”

Minhyuk, who now has the bloodied axe propped on his left shoulder, grins ferociously, as though murdering three people were the best thing to ever happen to him. Changkyun rolls his eyes — knowing what comes next — and gets out his cell to call a number.

“Oh, but Joo’s gonna be so proud when I tell him about the kills,” he says. Hyungwon scoffs beside him, propping an arm on Changkyun’s shoulder while he slots his shotgun into his hip holster.

“Fucking show-off,” Hyungwon says as he idly toys with the hair on Changkyun’s nape. 

Minhyuk sticks his tongue out like a child, swinging his axe aimlessly in the air.

Changkyun sighs. _Fucking kids._

_“Hello?”_

“Yeah, Hyunwoo-hyung. Can you and Hoseokkie-hyung come and collect? I’ve got a whole base to raid — I’m thinking a couple hundred thousand in cash for sure, along with weaponry and henchmen.”

_“Sure thing.”_

“Oh, and,” Changkyun looks at the three bodies from Hyungwon’s precise gunshots. “Can you ask if Ki-hyung is hungry?”

_“Oh, I rather think he’s always hungry.”_

“Great. Tell him we’ve got groceries.”

**Author's Note:**

> in case you didn't get it, Blondie: min and Tall Guy: wonnie. :D 
> 
> i'm also assuming ki is hannibal as per his Cage Scene (extra rude of him)
> 
> idk what this is. i spat this out in approximately 3 hours lmao.
> 
> (also yes the mv is very very Rude/Impolite and i'm still not over it.)
> 
> anyways. take care, stay safe, hydrated, healthy <3


End file.
